


Dinner at your parents and I’ve fallen in love with your sister

by kingsqueensroyalty



Series: Dating shenanigans at Oxbridge (Merlin) [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arthur’s a mummy’s boy, Basically everyone’s bi, F/F, F/M, Gwen knits, Oxbridge, brief mentions of the knights, except Morgana she’s a lesbian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:28:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25787350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingsqueensroyalty/pseuds/kingsqueensroyalty
Summary: Gwen Smith had met Arthur Pendragon when they shared a lecture together in the first week of Oxford, and he offered to keep the seat for her for the rest of term, now months later she’s going to his parents house for dinner.No one told her that Arthur’s older sister, Morgana, was coming back from Cambridge for break. And they definitely didn’t mention that she looked like that.Including Arthur being my favorite bi boy, Gwen being the softest, piniest person alive, and Morgana being a huge nerd.
Relationships: Gwen/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Gwen/Morgana (Merlin)
Series: Dating shenanigans at Oxbridge (Merlin) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1870699
Comments: 9
Kudos: 50





	Dinner at your parents and I’ve fallen in love with your sister

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t own Merlin. I absolutely love Morgana and Gwen’s relationship, and Arthur and Gwen are the bestest friends ever.

Gwen was extremely nervous to meet Arthur’s parents. They had been dating 2 months and Arthur’s father was pretty pushy about these things, especially after Arthur’s last girlfriend ended up being a massive gold-digger. 

Whilst his mother seemed lovely from what Arthur said (he was a complete mummy’s boy), she was quite protective. It didn’t help that Arthur would no doubt end the relationship if Gwen offended Ygraine, so no pressure at all.

So Gwen was preparing herself to get grilled over her ‘intentions’, and yes, she liked him. She had ever since he offered to save her seat in lectures, after there was an overlap in topics between English Lit. and History. But she didn’t want to think of marriage and ‘intentions’, it seemed far too adult. 

It was her first year of University and so far the most adult thing she had managed was buying her own bread, so adulting wasn’t quite her thing. Flowers, books and knitting. That was Gwen’s area of expertise, well... expertise is used lightly. She had made herself a couple of pairs of socks and her dad a scarf, but that was about all she could do.

And she rambled at the best of times, Arthur said he found it cute, but it’d only get accelerated and more awkward when what she had to say was the focus. God, she was dreading it!

Arthur’s warm hand enclosed around her’s, their joined hands laying on her lap. His eyes were bright under the streetlights as he looked across the short distance of the car at her.

“My family will love you, Gwen. Don’t worry about it - no one can hate you.” His smile was fond and she focused on it in her mind as she tried to breathe. Taking in how the traffic lights made blue irises reflect reds, oranges and greens.

As they pulled into the drive of a large, manor looking house, the wheels of Arthur’s car crunching over specifically laid gravel, Gwen squeezed his hand and resolved to herself that she could do this. 

Walking to the imposing wooden door, hands still securely together, she felt a little braver, a little surer. Before Arthur could pull out his keys, the hallway light flickered on and the door opened.

Pale, manicured hands appeared around the edge of the door, the red of the nails a pleasing contrast to the mahogany, the hands flexed and the most beautiful girl Gwen had ever seen appeared in the doorway. 

A lazy, pleased smirk was on her face as the majority of weight was supported by her shoulder resting on the left side of the door frame. Her eyes seemed to widen before she settled back into herself, arms open and fingers splayed wide as she addressed Arthur, “Did you miss me, baby brother?”

“Morgana? What are you doing home?” He paused before some amusement entered his voice, “Let me guess, Cambridge finally came to their senses and realized you’re too much of a menace so they kicked you out?”

Her mouth was a straight line, “Ha ha, Arthur. It’s honestly shocking that your degree is in history and not comedy with humor like that.” Eyes that seemed predatory centered on Gwen and red lips pulled at the edges, “Aren’t you going to introduce us?” 

Her voice held a lilt that made Gwen’s face heat. Before Arthur could open his mouth, Gwen impulsively offered her free hand, stuck it out and into Morgana’s space before she could really comprehend what she did. 

“I’m Gwen. Arthur’s mentioned you to me a lot. All good things, well not really, he says you’re irritating. Not that I think that! I’m sure you’re great… eh- you’re lovely?” By the end of her verbal throw up, her failure of an introduction became a question.

Morgana’s face was amused and seemed to light up even more under the glow of the Friday evening stars. “Arthur rather rudely hasn’t mentioned you before, must’ve realized that I’d pester him for details. Thank you, Gwen. You’re lovely too.” 

A male voice, which Gwen assumed belonged to Uther, broke the atmosphere.

”Would you both like to come in?” Morgana pointedly offered, to which Arthur rolled his eyes and lightly pulled Gwen into the hallway.

Gwen felt the material of Morgana’s shirt against her side as she brushed past and couldn’t help but fixate on the brief warmth she felt there. 

Sat at a dining table devoid of scratches and odd stains was a contrast to Gwen’s childhood.

The difference in circumstances was only accentuated by being sandwiched between the Pendragon siblings and sitting opposite Uther, whose stare seemed to burn into her soul. 

Arthur’s chair was tucked in tight to her’s. So much so he could easily wrap an arm around her shoulders which only served to further tuck her into his side. It was rather useless to keep his family’s gazes off of her, but it was a noble gesture all the same.

Ygraine turned the conversation to Arthur and his health whenever Uther got a bit too pedantic in his questioning, her methods were to ease the pressure off of Gwen as much as it was an excuse to dote on her son. 

In between discussions of future grandchildren from Uther, where the table seemed to creak under the pressure that filled the air in the silence before Arthur waved his father off, there were bursts of questions from Ygraine. 

“Arthur, have you been eating enough? Are the rooms warm enough? You know how sniffly you get in the winter!”, with interjects of Morgana gleefully exclaiming that he always looks like Rudolph come Christmas.

Arthur took the affectionate questions with a light pinkness in his cheeks and a warm look at his mother, holding onto her hands that reached out to him. He would tighten the grip in reassurance and reply with platitudes that made it seem like Oxford’s main priority was hospitality. 

In the moments where Arthur was distracted by his mother and Uther was more concerned with the state of the lamb the chef brought out, Morgana would lean into Gwen’s space. Her long hair falling around them, shielding like a blockade from the orange glow of the dining table candle light. 

Despite her questions being more superficial than Uther’s probing, and asked in a voice far less curious than Ygraine’s, their quiet conversations seemed more intimate. Gwen wondered if it was because of the soft whispers they communicated in or the way the space between them was filled with their words.

At some point during the evening, after everyone had consumed a few glasses of wine between the courses, but before the dessert - Morgana told a story that had her animated and gesturing freely with her hands.

Gwen laughed along with the punchline and was horrified to note it turned into an intake of breath when Morgana’s right hand settled just above Gwen’s knee, seeping heat through the material of her skirt.

So that’s how dessert happened. Ice cream was served in glasses that she had never seen outside of a parlor and eaten with spoons that seemed ridiculously small, but no one commented so she assumed it was perfectly normal in their house.

The night was formal but filled with warmth. She saw a family that was stilted and awkward in places, but they loved each other deeply and wholeheartedly.

It made her miss her father and brother, probably sitting around a table a lot smaller and rounder than the one she was currently at. In the kitchen of their little apartment, hours away and with no room for a separate dining room. 

It was a strange, but a happy thought, that she felt comfortable at both.

She suspected it had something to do with the care behind Ygraine’s smile, the grounding nature of Arthur’s steady arm keeping her close, and the warmth of Morgana’s palm that had her hyper aware of the flickering in the fireplace and the way the strawberry ice cream tasted on her tongue.

They had moved to the lounge, Uther retiring to bed and Ygraine fussing over their travel arrangements. 

“Arthur, don’t be silly! I couldn’t possibly let you and Gwen take a taxi at this hour. It’d be improper of me.” Gwen refrained from mentioning that it was 10:30pm.

Before his mouth was half open, Ygraine held up a silencing finger. Her tone was light but built to border on shrill, “You and Gwen will stay the night. Your old room is acting as a guest room, anyways. I’ll accept no arguments!”

Morgana seemed to let out a snort of amusement at the whole scene before sipping at her tea.

With a nod and a survey of the lounge, collecting her empty cup, Arthur’s mother prepared to head bed.

Catching her lower arm, lightly Gwen spoke. Her tone was honest and was just shy of gushing, as it often was, “Thank you, Ygraine. We appreciate it, and thank you for such lovely company tonight - Arthur speaks of you frequently and you more than live up to his praises. It’s been wonderful.”

The returning smile was wide before Ygraine kissed Gwen’s cheek, then Arthur’s, and then Morgana’s on the way out. 

A moment passed before Arthur guided them to a sofa opposite his sister. He lay his head back, fully relaxing, Gwen curled into his side.

Morgana cleared her throat, attention turned to her. Her grin was shark like, her torso leaning forward over her crossed legs, “Now, to the real questions.”

Gwen’s body seemed to know the sordid questions that were to come as her cheeks burned red in preparation and she resisted the urge to hide her face in her hands.

The night, after the senior Pendragons retired, was long but fulfilling in a way that it hadn’t been whilst they had been present. The fireplace was roaring, and the evening was heated with subtle looks and conversations between Morgana and Gwen that broke off into fits of giggles. 

At some point Arthur slipped into sleep, trainers toed off and laying messily off to the side. Gwen’s legs were propped into his lap and his arm lay over her shins, loose yet comforting. She traced patterns in the light dancing across the ceiling with her eyes, letting Morgana’s stories wash over her. 

Gwen must’ve fallen asleep too because she woke to a hand smoothing over her forehead and Morgana’s quietly happy face leaning over her.

“I think we should all head to bed, the two of you seem exhausted.” At Gwen’s sleepy nod in reply, Morgana launched a pillow at Arthur as a rude awakening call.

He made a disgruntled noise and his arms flailed slightly, knowing only Morgana would do such a thing he only groaned and threw the pillow back in the general direction from whence it came. 

Just before they reached Arthur’s bedroom, Morgana waved him off and pulled Gwen aside and into her room.

“I have some spare pajamas here,” she pushed a short stack of clothes in Gwen’s general direction as she searched through her draws, “I know from experience how awful sleeping in tights are.”

“Thank you, Gana.” In her tiredness, she used the name she had heard Arthur use a few times throughout the night, and was treated to Morgana spinning to face and smile at her.

Guiding her to the bathroom at the end of the hall, hand at the small of Gwen’s back, she breathed out, “No problem. ‘Night, Gwenivere.”

And she was gone.

Leaning her palms against the cool counter, Gwen observed the flush on her cheeks that had seemed permanent since she entered the house. In the mirror spanning the whole length of the whole, her eyes seemed slightly crazed. Too wide, with too much light entering them.

Every interaction with Morgana just seemed more. More intense, more tender, sometimes too much. Around her, Gwen’s heart beated faster, her breath came out heavier than she intended and she didn’t think her hair had ever been twirled around her finger so much.

Staring herself down, she felt her breath catch and the back of her eyes and throat burn slightly. 

Guilt. What she was feeling was guilt. 

Gwen couldn’t say she loved Arthur, at least not in the way you should love someone who brought you to meet their parents. 

Arthur was safe to Gwen, he was secure. He was the warmth of a gentle blanket in the Fall and he made everything slightly easier to face.

Whereas Morgana, just in the hours Gwen had been around her, she was fire. She burned so brightly and Gwen knew that Morgana could hurt her. A lot. Yet part of her didn’t care, she wanted to welcome the flames and all the heat and danger that came with it.

It was with a heavy heart that Gwen carried herself down the hall, slipping into Arthur’s room. The pale moonlight slipped in the gap between his poorly drawn curtains and lit up his figure, partially hidden beneath quilts. 

When she saw him all she could think was ‘beautiful’, but in the way you think when you see a captivating flower or the intricate stitching on a dress. She wondered how she could have confused this feeling with wanting something more than friendship with Arthur, because a friendship with Arthur was one of the best things in the world. 

He was loyal and self-sacrificing, and he would probably accept Gwen pulling away with no explanation at all, and that made it hurt all the more. 

Sighing to herself, she placed a kiss to Arthur’s forehead and slipped behind him into bed. Bowing her neck and pressing into the middle of Arthur’s back, feeling her own breath echo off of his skin, she vowed whatever happened, she’d never hurt Arthur. 

She’d defend him against anyone who tried. 

With that thought permeating her mind, she fell into a restless sleep where her dreams had a gorgeous girl with dark hair appearing at the edges. 

Leaving in the morning wasn’t awkward, despite all her worries. By the time her and Arthur woke, to the sound of cuttlering below them in the house, Uther had already left for work.

Ygraine offered them breakfast and after they declined, waved them away. Morgana stood behind her shoulder, increasing the presence in the doorway.

The car journey was quieter than normal, and Arthur threw her a few extra glances, but it was mostly easy and peaceful.

It took two weeks, thanks to the craziness of the term at Oxford, before Gwen could sit down with Arthur for longer than half an hour. 

The day they broke off their relationship was a sunny day, perfect to spend on the bank of a river, instead they were holed up in Arthur’s room.

Gwen felt a little thrown off that the day wasn’t appropriately miserable for the event. It felt wrong to mar a day like this.

Sat on his bed, both of their backs being jabbed by the windowsill they were propped up against, Gwen brought up what had been on both of their minds.

Clenching her hands over her jeans, she started, “Arthur.”  
She turned her body to face him, “We’re not really a couple are we?” 

Arthur began to splutter, his body language becoming more rigid, tenser.

“No, no. Come on, you know it. Arthur, we’ve always been better as friends. These last two months have been fine, good even. I feel safe with you and you’re so unbelievably brilliant, but tell me - when was the last time we’ve done something coupley?”

He opened his mouth again, his eyebrows downturned and his jaw clenched. “We went for chinese food the other day! We’re constantly touching, you know more about me than basically anyone.”

“All of those things are true. But Arthur, you go for food with Leon, or Lance, or Gwaine. And we were more tactile than most people before we started dating, heck we’re friends with Gwaine - touch is our normal.” She put a hand on his knee, partly proving their points but more relieved when he didn’t push it off.

She continued, “Friends - best friends even, know a lot about each other. Just tell me Arthur, honestly. Is there a spark?”

Arthur’s whole body sagged and crumpled under the combined weight of her gaze and the question. He looked off slightly, mournful, attempting to hide the moisture building in his eyes. He looked back at her, more deeply than he’d ever looked at her before, “No. There’s not. Honestly, I can’t even remember if there ever was. What have we been doing Gwen?”

There was a hidden sob in her laugh, “I think we’ve just been two confused people clinging to the belief that this is what we need and never really trying to want more.”

He pulled her into his arms, “I love you, Gwen. I have ever since I saved you that seat in lectures.”

“And I love you, too. Ever since you’ve been my knight in shining armour, but Arthur we deserve more. So much more than what we can give each other.” 

Leaning back out of his arms slightly, making sure that his attention was on her words, she breathed out, “ Love is more than being comfortable. It’s being terrified that you could feel so much yet wanting to feel it again. I think when you fall in love, properly, that person will be the luckiest person in the world.”

For the rest of the afternoon, where the sun didn’t seem so bright anymore coming through the streaky window, they laid next to each other. Taking comfort from one another, not quite ready to leave but not quite back to how they needed to be completely in the other’s space.

The sky was a landscape of purple and orange by the time Gwen finally left. The mounting deadlines of coursework they never really had time to ignore, and the calls of hunger from her stomach, and Arthur’s soft look from his doorway sent her back to her own halls.

Piles of work greeted her when she returned to her room with a sandwich in hand. Working in a desk chair that had one leg the slightest bit too short, and under the light of a too yellow lamp, and pushing through hand cramps as she finished drafting an essay - she let the tears fall.

She wasn’t crying from heartbreak, it was more the overwhelming thought that this was a new chapter. There was no more of the safety of having Arthur as a boyfriend provided. 

It was equally freeing as it was terrifying. 

Gwaine, Lance, Leon and the rest of their friendship group were still staples in her life. It didn’t seem like they were taking sides between her and Arthur, though no one mentioned him to her. So they knew what happened, even if they didn’t, they could’ve pieced it together.

There was an Arthur shaped hole in her life from his absence since the break up. He avoided group situations where she’d be present and she received no texts or notes at her desk.

It was another two weeks before on a night where she had a particularly demanding task set, with a particularly cruel deadline, where she had forgotten to eat - that at 9pm she received a knock on her door.

It was Arthur. His hair was a shade darker from the rain as stuck in strands to his forehead and his grey hoodie and jeans were damp, yet there was a shyer expression on his face than she had ever seen. 

He was twirling a white plastic bag between the fingers on his right hand, a red symbol in the centre. He held it up, eyes brightening, “Chinese?”

Just like that, Arthur from before they were dating was back in her life. They slurped noodles and caught up on the last fortnight of the other’s life. Arthur complained that the cute boy from his 10am lecture had moved to the row behind him, so he couldn’t (as Arthur put it) admire his majestic eyelashes. 

Gwen, well… Gwen admitted that her and Morgana had been exchanging texts. And maybe, just maybe that she liked her far more than as a friend. 

At Arthur’s shocked look she thought that she had pushed the limits on their newly refreshed friendship too far, but he snapped out of it quickly. 

He began to tease her, saying she was helpless against the Pendragon charms.  
He claimed they’d be fine as long as she didn’t go after his father because then she’d really need her head checked. 

Gwen was just utterly relieved they were completely and utterly good, Arthur and Gwen once again. 

Her relief expressed itself as a laugh bubbled out of her throat as she dug her bi-pride knitted sock covered feet into Arthur’s calf. He let out a mock-war cry and began giving as good as he got with his similarly clad toes. 

That night, after Arthur had left and her essay had used all the brain power she had left, she looked at the photo saved with Morgana’s number.

It was silly, her ruffled against a pillow and her tongue sticking out. A response selfie to some silly dig Gwen sent her, probably aimed at her obsession with Star Wars.

Gwen looked at the happiness visible in the photo and her heart beat so hard it was all she could hear. The beat rattled around in her head, providing a backing track to her last stream of consciousness. 

‘I like you, I like you, I like you, I like you, I like you.’

It was three days later, a Saturday, when Gwen met Morgana in a coffee shop. Neutral territory. Not either of their dorms, no pressure. 

But when Morgana sat down opposite her, all curled hair, green scarf and heeled boots, Gwen still felt like Morgana had the advantage. 

The date was a blur. Hot drinks with far too many marshmallows for Gwen and cup after cup of black coffee for Morgana, their easy conversation over text hadn’t failed to transfer to in person.

It felt easy, far too easy to get lost in the eyes that lit up talking about Classics at Cambridge with the same intensity as they talked about how some princess in Star Wars deserved better costumes. 

When a pale hand, always far too cold, wrapped atop Gwen’s resting their joined hands on the table - all Gwen could think was, ‘I’m yours if you want me’.

Morgana stopped mid rant about how some literary piece from a thousand years ago should be mandatory reading. “What?” But even as she said it she cut herself off, bursting out of her chair and pulling Gwen to meet her.

About to start rambling in pure embarrassment, because she had not meant to say that outloud, Gwen froze when the red lips she had stared at in pictures over and over again, pressed against her’s.

The realisation that she could feel a spark was almost a physical thing, instead she settled for deepening the kiss and raising a hand to cradle the face she thought about so often.

Pulling back, the look on Morgana’s face in any other situation would’ve been hilarious, it was a dopey mix of elation and shock. 

Gwen had never seen Morgana as anything less than composed before. She loved that she caused that expression and wanted to cause it over and over again.

Frantic eyes locked onto her’s and Morgana smoothed stray strands of hair with shaky fingers. She seemed to stumble over her words, “Uh… date me? I mean… would you date me?”

Gently removing Morgana’s hand from her hair, and cupping them in her own, she pressed a quick kiss to darkened lips. “I’d love to be your girlfriend, ‘Gana.”

The answering grin she got made all the nights leading up to this, cradled in blankets looking at the too small number of selfies of Morgana housed in her phone, 100% worth it.

Months with Morgana flew by, far too few visits sneaked in between their schedules on weekends and during holidays were torture and the best days of her year at the same time. 

The feeling of being loved and loving in return came to head at Christmas. The visit to the Pendragon house was startling in its difference to the first.

There was no formal dining experience, only Christmas dinner, which was a relaxed affair with everyone eating too much and feeling groggy as a result.

Everyone was softened by the quiet Christmas Eve they had, in the same lounge, with the same flickering fireplace. With a highly decorated Christmas tree in the corner, sipping hot chocolate and slipping badly wrapped presents under the tree.

The happy Christmas morning that came with a chill in the air that made Arthur all too happy to receive his jumper, one she had knitted for him - involving his famous red and a golden dragon.

Morgana got a necklace with a miniature version of the Tardis hanging from its chain, seeing her girlfriend’s happy smile and hearing the little squeal she let out when she opened it, made it worth the dent it put in her bank account.

Gwen got a polite bottle of wine for Uther and a book filled with flower arranging tips for Ygraine who was in charge of the home’s impressive garden.

That night when everyone was in bed, wrapped up and content, Gwen pressed a kiss to Morgana’s neck and shushed her as she climbed out of bed to retrieve the other gift she had made Morgana.

In the corner of the bedroom, by their bags, was a squishy parcel that Gwen retrieved and promptly dropped in Morgana’s lap. She watched her open it from a small space away, sitting criss crossed and wiggling her feet slightly (once again in her signature knitted pride socks).

After opening the package, the first thing Morgana did was give an exasperated eye roll and push out an, “You’re an utter dork.” Still, she pulled the gift over her head and smoothed the comforting texture of the knitted jumper Gwen had made her.

It was at least to sizes too big and the quality meant she could never wear it as anything but lounge wear, still she absolutely adored the lumpy jumper with its stitched lesbian flag proudly adorning the front.

She made grabby hands at Gwen and pulled her in close, foreheads pressed together, eyes just taking in one another. Morgana’s words were a whisper against Gwen’s lips, “I love you.”

Closing the gap between those few precious spaces, Gwen communicated her love. Wishing in those moments Morgana could see the flowers that bloomed in her mind, and the symphony of fireworks that exploded behind her eyelids. 

Hoping, hoping, hoping that her words would be enough, “I love you.”


End file.
